Category Archives: gratitude

Be Nerdy About Your Thing!

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My Insta story last week

“OK so:”

When you ask someone about something they love, that they’re expert in, and they get all excited to tell you all about it, isn’t this what they often say? Their energy is palpable, their smile wide, and you can tell they just can’t wait to get it out.

I love that feeling, as both the asker and the answerer. And when I come across someone who also appreciates this feeling, it’s another example of that exponential synergistic cosmic rocket fuel of connection that I live for.

In case you’re looking for folks who exude this, might I recommend:

Alton Brown. Specifically in his recent book of essays, Food For Thought.

AJ, Andy Wilson-Taylor. He nerds out on some of his Patreon posts, about music, noise cancelling, motorbikes, and so much else!

Keith Roach, MD. My first clinic preceptor, teacher, and mentor, we can all benefit from reading Dr. Roach’s columns answering medical questions. He isn’t effusive about the nerding, but you can tell he knows his stuff and loves to teach it.

Carolyn Mueller. My colleague and fitness professional, follow Carolyn on Instagram for her posts and stories on the science, psychology, and reality of staying fit and healthy.

Kasey McKenney. Director of Treatment at Ethos Training Systems in Chicago, Kasey integrates deep knowledge of the musculoskeletal system with expertise in Traditional Chinese Medicine. More often than not, our conversations circle from relationship to communication, to qi, and I always learn something new and relevant to my life and medical practice.

Who do you know like this? Please make your introductions in the comments!

Happy happy, friends–we’ got this!

Fifteen Years’ Perspective

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Which fifteen years of your life are particularly meaningful, memorable, or important to you?

I have practiced medicine for 26 years now, 15 of them at my current place (nice mug, isn’t it?). A handful of patients have been with me since I started here. I met them in their 50s, and now they are all Medicare age. We’ve been through some stuff together. In that same time, I have aged from 36 to 51. Reflecting on last night’s post, it occurred to me to compare my fifteen years to each of theirs, a juxtaposition of life stages in real time. Then I thought about my kids’ fifteen years: 6 to 21, and 2 to 17. Even the few years separating their ages feels like a significant delta, which surprised me and also not.

It’s a reflection on change, growth, evolution, and relationship.

I wrote last week that I feel more connected to people now than ever; this week I am positively swimming in oxytocin. The three friends who met one another last week on Zoom and I are still reflecting on our gathering and I, for one, marvel with glee at the connections we made so easily and deeply. I have delivered more jar smiles to friends, sparking conversations and smiles for them and me both. When I think of my longest known patients and how well we know each other, how easily we navigate new issues and shared decision making, I feel loyal, peaceful, protective, and grateful.

The past fifteen years have been dense and intense, full of everything. Lots of disruption (including but not limited to politics and pandemic), and also steadfast stability and anchored strength. I think my most important learnings are not taking anything or anyone for granted and the value and benefits of mindfulness. Self-compassion, non-judgment, and deep, unwavering curiosity also emerge as foundation practices; they move me closer to that inner peace that I want to live and die with. Fifteen years’ perspective sharply clarifies a particular segment of my journey in mind, body, spirit, relationships, and world view.

Looking ahead feels no less profound. Between now and 66, barring any traumas or crises, I wish for us all continued growth, evolution, and connection. Changes in our social fabric feel accelerated and chaotic, uncertain and even threatening. I still submit that we always get to choose our response: mindset, energy expenditure, agency application. We can make the most of whatever time we are given; we create our own experiences to a large degree. Our subjective sense of control (mostly an illusion) and agency (too often underestimated) matter moment to moment and thus year to year, decade to decade.
A5R: Attune, Attend, Assess, Adjust, Adapt, Repeat. Forgive my redundance–it just keeps coming up. So I’ll let it. It’s integrating. Nice. I think that’s how it should be.

100 Pregnancies

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Shane East, Instagram, January 28, 2025

“How many weeks to you think the average human lifespan has in it?” asked Shane East on Instagram, on January 28.

I did the ballpark math in my head as I listened to the rest of the reel, and it seemed about right, somewhere around 78 years, I thought. But to express it in weeks gave no perspective for me at the time. Years and decades are much more my speed.

Then, weeks (ha!) later, it occurred to me that pregnancy is measured in weeks, and expected to last 40. So in one of those ah-HA! shower moments, I realized that by the time we are born, we may already be 1% down the road to death. Huh. So if a pregnancy is 1% of an average human lifespan, then a whole lifespan is 100 pregnancies.

Suddenly 4000 weeks had a whole new meaning in terms of duration, potential, and load. What else do (or could) we do (or witness, or cause, or anything) 100 times in our life? How many puberties, summer camps, college degrees, PhDs, MDs, and residencies is 4000 weeks? How many relationships, sex partners, attempted and failed new experiences or jobs?

How else can we frame the length of an average human lifespan to shake our perspective and make different meaning? Why would we want to?

How does the length of your life, to date and pending, make sense to you?
How do you chunk it?

What is y/our relationship with death?

And as the wise Mary Oliver asked, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” (Shane has posted this question before, also. He is my people.)

Living toward death–it’s another fun paradox of reality that I love to ponder. And it always brings me back to, “Live in peace to die at peace.” Easier said than done, and I won’t know until the end if I can walk the talk.

Does it feel morbid or fatalistic? Not to me. Rather I feel mindful and realistic, present and optimistic. I get to choose what meaning I make out of 4000 weeks, 100 pregnancies, or however else I consider my time in this body, on this planet, at this time in history, whatever is happening at any time.

I have agency. These days, that may be the most important meaning I can embrace and express.